


Dust

by LeahNoLiah



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, sad bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19165879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeahNoLiah/pseuds/LeahNoLiah
Summary: Bucky thought he could protect her. He thought he could keep her safe.





	Dust

The house was cold, dark, and utterly empty despite the liveliness of the furniture and decorations surrounding him. The plants in the kitchen that she had bought on a whim were now wilted from lack of care. A layer of dust had settled along the doors and windows and on top of shelves and knick knacks. Their bed in the bedroom was still slightly unkempt from the last time it was slept in. And that hurt Bucky's heart the most -seeing the bed settle permanently in that state and knowing it'll never change or be used again.

It was suppose to be just another average night; he went out with Steve and Y/N had wanted to stay home, claiming she was tired from work and wanted to take a bath and relax. He asked her if she wanted him to stay home, like always. But she refused and told him to have a great time, like always. Then he kissed her, told her he loved her, and that he'd be on call if she needed anything, like always. And she had laughed at his worry, kissed him back, and said she loved him too,  _like always_. And then he left. And he wondered how many mistakes he had made before walking out that door.

Bucky looked at the pictures adorning the walls as he walked through the house.  _Their_  house. So many pictures had captured the moments they shared together over the last couple of years. He loved taking pictures -it was a way to capture everything he never wanted to forget and, god, he never wanted to forget her. Y/N was a breath of sunshine in his otherwise dark life. After Hydra, he thought he'd never find the time or strength to date again but there she was -a regular human in a regular world living a regular life. He knew he loved her the moment he met her. They were quick to start dating and even quicker to get married -if the pictures were anything to go by.

He stopped by their wedding photo, sitting on a shelf by the tv in the living room. That, too, carried a layer of dust over the dark wooden frame and glossy glass casing. Tears stung at his eyes as he looked her over in her white dress, them locked tightly in a kiss at the alter. It pained him to look at the picture and know he'd never get to kiss her again. It pained him even more to ask himself where he went wrong.

He had only been gone for a couple hours. Him and Steve went out for drinks and were talking about seeing a new movie. Everything was fine. He was feeling good and having a good time. And when his phone rang and he saw her name pop up on the screen, he didn't think much of it. Maybe she was just calling to check in. Maybe she was going to bed and wanted to tell him to be quiet when he came home. You know, trivial things that couples do on normal nights like this. But when he answered the phone and heard her panicked whispering, he knew nothing was normal.

" _Bucky! I think there's someone in the house!_ " she had whispered to him and it felt like all warmth had left his body.

" _I'm on my way. Stay where you are. There's a gun under the bed._ " he ordered her.

Him and Steve had floored it to the house, hoping to all god that the worst case scenario was that whoever broke into the house just wanted to rob them and would be in and out without spotting her.  _She had a gun_ , he told himself.  _She'll be fine until he can get to her_ , he thought. The worry and paranoia he had when they first got together that someone would eventually come for him -or her- had prompted him to teach her how to shoot a gun. And he hoped that his lessons would keep her safe that night.

But they didn't.

When they got to the house, both him and Steve already knew something wasn't right. The front door was wide open and all the lights were off and he could see a trail of blood down the steps. Bucky had exited the car before it even stopped moving and he dashed inside with a knife in hand, ready to attack anyone who might still be here. Carefully, he turned on light after light as he stalked from room to room and checked over the place until he got to the bedroom -the last place he hadn't checked.

He found her face down on the floor in a pool of her own blood and it was like Bucky had entered a horror movie. Everything had faded until only she remained in his line of sight. He ran to her, gathering her limp body in his arms and begging to her.

" _Please, baby, please look at me! Open your eyes!_ " he had cried out over and over again.

Blood had stained the front of her shirt and down from her mouth and leaked all over him but he couldn't give a shit about that now. He pressed a hand to the bullet wound in her chest, hoping that his futile attempt would keep her alive long enough to get her help. Bucky felt his tears stinging his eyes as he continued pleading to her, begging to god, to wake up. But she never did and his entire world came crashing down.

Her funeral feels like a lifetime ago now even though it's only been a few months. This was the first time he had set foot into their house since she died. He thought that by going back to the house he could keep her memory alive but all it's doing so far is reminding him that he had failed her. He couldn't protect her.

" _Bucky, you don't have to do this. Don't force yourself._ " Steve told him when he said he wanted to go back home.

" _I have to face it sooner or later, Steve._ "

He had went through the entire house save for the bedroom. Bucky stood outside the door, trying to find the will to open it and face reality. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the entire scene laid out in front of him. He could see her on the ground in a pool of her own blood. He could still hear her heart beat its final beat. And he fell to the floor in a fit of hysteria. He screamed. God he screamed. He screamed at God, he screamed at himself, he screamed at the shooter. Just when he thought he could settle down and live a normal life, something came to remind him that he's a monster that doesn't deserve a normal life. He doesn't deserve happiness and he has to accept that. He has to face what he's done to her.

On shaky legs, Bucky stood and carefully walked through the door. His eyes landed on the blood stain that hadn't been cleaned yet. The entire carpet would have to be ripped up and replaced. The bed was still crumpled from where she had slept in it. Dirty clothes still piled up in the hamper, waiting to be washed. Except none of those things were ever going to taken care of. She wasn't here to do it and he didn't want to be here to do it.

The room still smelled of her underneath the rotten scent of iron and blood. She wore this one perfume that Bucky loved so much. She'd buy bottles of it at a time so she never ran out. The scent still lingered on the blankets and on her clothes in the closet. If Bucky closed his eyes he could still picture her spritzing some on herself in the bathroom. He could picture her fresh out of the shower, dressing for work, and dabbing a couple drops on her neck and wrists. And now he's never gonna see that ever again.

And it's all his fault.

"You ready, Buck?" Steve asked him when he emerged from the house. If he saw the redness and bags under Bucky's eyes, he didn't say anything of it.

"Yeah." was all he said as he got into the passenger seat. Steve got in the driver seat and started the car. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Bucky fiddling with a picture he recognized all too well. Their wedding photo lay in his lap covered in a layer of dust.


End file.
